The signs are out there already - signs that the summer of 2009 is drawing to a close. There are many harbingers of the season's end - Back to School sales, school buses on the roads, vacation spots becoming just a little less busy. While last week the heat & humidity was oppressive - as it has been all month - yesterday and this morning dawned clear and cool. Almost crisp compared to recent days. And last night's group ride was illuminated by just a touch of that distinctive Autumn light, all clear blue sky and orange sun.
But for local bike racers, one of the first of those signs is the last Rentschler Field crit which I raced this past Tuesday.
As I've mentioned in previous posts, this weekly event is a summertime staple and, despite a nasty crash there a couple of weeks ago, it's one of the safest, most fun races around. I've been fond of this race ever since it was my first race ever, "way back" in May of 2006.
So the last Rent' race of the season always has a strange mix of anticipation and sadness. You're excited about racing - even if only one more time - but you know that the end of the road racing season is near.
Unfortunately, my first year racing in the same category with friend SDC ended with that nasty crash and I started this last race without him joining me at the line. It was my first time racing the Rent' since then, and I wanted to do well. Especially since Mr. & Mrs. SDC came out to watch and I wanted to be sure I had some exploits to discuss over dinner afterwards.
Unlike previous weeks, I got to the track after the "B" race had already started. After a cursory (for me) warmup, and the "B" race finished, we lined up. While waiting for the start, we noticed a "walking wounded" lineup off to the side: Teammate Max, who broke his leg in the Hartford Crit back in May was there on his crutches, and SDC was there in his wheelchair. Not a great advertisement for the safety of bike racing! I guess I'll have to add another sign of the season's end: the growing number of casualties.
So we start off, my main goal - especially after racing my weaknesses - being to stay sheltered in the pack and see what I had for the end. But I think I've finally learned that the "A" races seldom come down to a field sprint. If you want to have any chance at placing, you need to be in the break. And there is almost always a break.
I resisted the temptation to go with any early moves, but did what I could to cover attacks whenever a teammate was up the road. But about halfway through the race, I noticed there was a four man break and none of our guys were in it. My other teammates had all given it a go, being included in earlier attempts, so I figured it was my turn to try.
Shortly after corner 3, I attacked and sprinted for all I was worth to try and bridge. I flew through the start/finish and finally caught the break on the back side of the track. That effort took a LOT out of me, but I didn't miss any pulls and tried to do my share of the work.
Considering the company I was in, I should have sat in a little. It was a very hard break, the pace being so high. But it was the break that stuck. Working together, we built up over a 1/2 lap lead on the rest of the pack.
But I was fading. Each turn at the front was more difficult and each time I peeled off, I had a hard time catching back on. I had no idea what my heartrate was, since my Garmin had died before the race. I had no data, but I knew I was hurting. And my CatEye told me how many minutes I had left before the lap cards would give me a sign that my suffering would soon end. I just tried to hang on as long as I could.
"As long as I could" however, came soon enough. The rest of the guys had probably noticed that my pulls were getting shorter. And once another CCNS guy bridged up and joined us (a remarkable feat in its own right), the pace went up again. That alone wouldn't have been so bad, but for some reason the guy in front of me took a monster pull right after that, dragging the rest of us around for almost a full lap(?!!). I thought he was just trying to ride us off his wheel, he was that strong and I had a hard time holding his wheel. When he pulled off, I gave it about 10 strokes before the rest of the guys started going by me. I though "great, they're giving me a break by pulling through early." Not. By the time the last guy in the line was past me, the pace was just too high. I couldn't catch back on.
Game over.
I languished in no man's land for a couple of laps, looking heroic (to me) or foolish (to the experienced racers watching), but I finally got the bright idea to just sit up and let the pack catch me.
Once back in the pack, I struggled for a couple of laps to not get dropped again. But fortunately, I recovered enough to at least sit in until the end. The break I was in had almost lapped the field by that point. All the placings were in it, so there was nothing left for the peleton to contest.
But I sprinted anyway, just because I had just enough left to - and because I wanted the last crit to end with a bang rather than a wimper.
It was just too bad that the "bang" was more from my total explosion earlier, rather than a winning sprint.
No matter. There was one last Tuesday night tradition to perform that I was already looking forward to, the race quickly fading into memory: Dinner afterwards. As the 2009 racing season winds down, I sometimes wonder which I'll miss more during the off-season - the races, or the after-race get togethers.
Fortunately, racing or not, we'll still be able to get together. The conversation will just evolve from discussing the race we just did, to planning the races we're going to do next year. Or we may not talk about racing at all. The friends you make when racing often become friends off the track too and it's nice to explore other interests during the off-season.
But all this talk of the off-season is - fortunately - a little premature. The signs of the season may be starting to pop up here and there, but there's still racing to do and wonderful Autumn rides to look forward to. The Three Village Tour is tomorrow and I'm planning on racing the Masters 35+ race - but not if a hurricane tropical storm hits us as predicted. I already have two strikes against me: "Masters" and "Road Race." The bad weather is strike three. So we'll see.
And of course there's the Jamestown Classic to look forward to on Columbus Day. I've only done that race once before, at the end of my first year racing. I'm really looking forward to doing it again - and the inevitable stretching of the season that a Columbus Day road race requires.
Other than that, there are fun rides coming up in September. Remember fun rides? In the midst of all the focused training and racing, it's easy to forget how wonderful it can be to just ride your bike through the countryside on a clear-blue-sky day. You don't have to worry about heart rate monitors or power meters. And your only thought about proper hydration is more about drinking in the scenery, rather than downing bottles of Gatorade.
So whatever your plans over the next weeks & months, let the signs of the season motivate you to try a few more of the many ways you can enjoy your bike. Hopefully you too will discover, as I have, that you can stretch the season as long as you want and those signs don't indicate an ending, but an invitation.